Introductions
by staceycj
Summary: Dean introduces Lisa to the only other Winchester left.
1. Chapter 1

"How is it that you can waltz in here, turn my life upside-down, know everything about my life, about Ben's life, but I can't know a single damn thing about you and your family?"

"Lis.."

"Don't Lis me. Part of being in a relationship is sharing, and you aren't very good at that Dean Winchester," she said in an angry whisper. She rolled over on her side facing the window.

"Lisa." He pleaded exasperatedly. He touched her shoulder trying to get her turn towards him so he could plead his case. She jerked her shoulder away from him and moved farther on her side of the bed.

"I don't want to talk about this anymore Dean. I have to get up early for work tomorrow, and so do you. Just go to bed." Dean let out a sigh, rolled over, and closed his eyes tight, clenched his teeth to the point where the muscle in his jaw twitched, and he counted to ten.

Sam said that he needed this, said that he wanted this normal, but he didn't give him a map, or a guide, or a hint as to how in the hell he was supposed to do this. Lisa knew that he was a hunter, and she understood on a basic level what that meant. She thought that she needed to know more-she couldn't be more wrong. The less she knew about the life he led before he showed up on her door step four months ago, broken, grief stricken and determined to adhere to a promise that he had been forced into making, the better off she was.

Lisa didn't understand. And that was the problem wasn't it? She simply wanted to understand him, where he came from, who he was beyond the little mixed company appropriate stories from his childhood or the time he spent on the road with Sam that he had shared. Or the little facts like what brand of beer was his favorite, or whether he preferred boxers or briefs, little stuff that was meaningless. Things that if a big bad were to get a hold of her and try to torture information out of her, the torture wouldn't last long because there wouldn't be any information to gather. At least that was what he told himself.

Was there really a big bad out there lurking in the shadows waiting to come and rip his little family to pieces? Lucifer was in his box, and Sammy was with him and Sammy wouldn't let Lucifer do anything. So, really, what was his problem? Was he truly just scared? Was he just scared that if he let someone, who wasn't Sam, who wasn't Bobby, inside that they would turn away from him, hurt him, disown him, leave him?

Grim realization came over him like demon smoke, if he didn't open up, Lisa was going to ask him to leave and not be a part of her family anymore. And not only would he have failed his brother, but he would have failed himself. He couldn't have one more failure on his soul. Just couldn't.

He sighed, sat up, turned and looked at the woman who was sleeping next to him. She was beautiful, she was sweet, kind, and gentle. He didn't want to give her up. Dean rubbed his hands up and down his face. He would have to tell her. He would have to introduce her to his life.

SNSNSNSN

Silence had never been Dean's friend. Silence on a hunt meant that the monster was standing right over you, or that you were on the receiving end of a blow so hard that it knocked all of your senses dumb. Or silence was driving alone in the Impala when your brother left you for Stanford, and quickly thereafter, your father abandoned you for revenge. Silence was the sound you hear when your brother is dead in your arms, or when your brother had fallen into Hell because he was the only one who could save the world from certain destruction that you had had a significant hand in starting. Silence was never good, and Lisa was employing it. After their argument on Thursday night, she stopped talking to him except for only the most necessary of things. And it took almost two complete days before he could get her alone, Ben off spending the night at a friend's house….something about an all night video game marathon…before Dean could make the introductions.

"Lisa?" he said entering the bedroom where she was reading a book. She looked up and didn't say a word. "Come with me."

"No."

"Lisa." He sighed. "Please." She slapped the book down on the bed.

"What? What do you want?"

"Lisa, Lis…" He put his hands on his hips and looked to the sky praying for some kind of help, and almost laughing at himself, God didn't help Sam and him when they needed it most, what in the hell made him think that God would help him get Lisa to understand? "You wanted to know me."

"And you made it perfectly clear that I wasn't privy to any of that information."

"I was wrong." he finally said. Her eyes lost some of their angry edge. "I was wrong. It isn't fair that you don't know anything about me and I know everything about you and Ben. You're right." She looked confused.

"If this is just a ploy to get you out of the dog house…"

"It's not. It's just the first time we've been alone since the fight that I can make introductions."

"Introductions? But…your family…"

"Is long dead or in Hell suffering for eternity." Dean supplied.

"What?"

"That explanation is for later when I'm drunk enough to tell you about it." He said knowing that he would have to be significantly drunk before he could tell anyone, even her, about the disaster, and Sam's possession and imprisonment. "But I can introduce you to the last part of my family. Please, come on." Curiosity got the better of her and she stood, put on the slip on shoes that she had by the bed and followed Dean out of the room, down the stairs, and into the garage. Dean turned on the light, and pulled the tarp off of the Impala.

"This is the last member of my family left alive." He said and swallowed hard. "This is my baby."

Lisa smiled nervously and pointed, "It's a car."

"It's more than a car." Dean said without taking offense. "It's been my home my whole life. This is where I grew up." He opened the passenger's side door and he indicated that she needed to get inside. She did. He went to the driver's side door and slipped inside. Dean pulled the garage door opener out of his pocket and opened the door, turned on the car, and pulled out of the garage, out of the driveway, and out of suburbia.

The big black beast glistened in the moonlight as they flew down the road. "You're sitting in Sammy's seat." He finally said when they pulled onto a back road that Lisa didn't even know existed. "For the last five years, Sam was my partner, my best friend, my brother, the only person I really talked to. He sat there when he bled, while he brooded, while he laughed at my stupid jokes, while he complained about my taste, or in his uncultured opinion lack there of, in music, while he talked about our latest case, while he cried. My brother sat there. That was my brother's spot." He licked his lips and tried to take a deep breath, he wasn't going to cry. He wasn't going to be a girl. He was simply going to state the facts. Going to sanitize this, take all of the pain, sadness, and grief out of it, and just make it a story.

"When we were kids, we played in here, Sam jammed that little green army guy in the ashtray, he was, I don't know, eight? Seven? God I don't even remember anymore. He just jammed the shit out of it and I wasn't ever able to get it out. Then almost four years ago, a semi truck slammed into us Sam was driving, I almost died, my dad did die, and this car looked like a pretzel. I put her back together, almost from scratch, and that little army man was lying on the floorboards, after over a decade of being stuck in that ashtray, it finally fell out. When I finally got her all put back together, I jammed it back in the ashtray. You have pictures of Ben growing up, you have that box full of his stuff, and it's the same thing for me."

Lisa watched Dean as he spoke. His eyes were focused completely on the road, he looked as if he were telling her about the weather. She knew better, knew that this was killing him to tell her such personal things about the brother he hardly spoke of.

"And under the carpet, we carved our initials into the floorboards. Silly kid things, but we did it."

"You guys ever live anywhere?"

"Yeah, we lived in lots of low rent apartments that had rats the size of small children. I'd watch Sam while Dad would be gone for weeks at a time. Or we stayed in motels that generally charged by the hour. We had beds. But we only truly felt safe in this car. It was the only thing we had left after the fire."

"The fire?"

"My mom." He licked his lips. "A demon, he burned my mom on the ceiling of Sam's nursery. Dad got Sammy out, but we weren't able to save Mom. Dad gave me Sam and told me to keep him safe. And I did. For 27 years, I did everything I knew how to keep my little brother safe. But no matter what I did, evil crap happened, and tried to get him, tried to turn him evil, tried to get him away from me. It took 27 years but they finally got him. And now, my home, my car, feels empty. It doesn't feel like a home anymore. Without Sammy, it just feels like a car." Dean licked his lips, bit the inside of his cheeks and pressed on. "Sam told me, that when I died, he put me in the backseat, even though he knew that I'd be pissed that there was blood all over the seats. He said that he wouldn't let Bobby put me in his car; Sam said that he wanted my last ride to be in my home, so he drove me to Illinois to bury me."

Tears were dripping down Lisa's face, and she dared not wipe them away, afraid movement might startle Dean, and when she spoke her voice was soft and quivered with sadness. "Dead?"

"I sold my soul in order to save Sam's life, and my bill came due, and they collected."

"I don't understand…"

"I've been to Hell, I've suffered, and I've hurt people. It's a part of me."

"Literal Hell?"

"Literal Hell. It's not all fire and brimstone. It's pain, and fear, and more pain. Unspeakable things happen to you down there. But my brother had to watch as hell hounds shredded me, he had to listen as I screamed, and he had to hear the silence when I was gone, and he had to smell my guts spilled onto the floor."

Lisa's mouth was agape. She had asked for this. She couldn't take back the request. But God how she suddenly wanted to. "This road, this is a road that can take you half way across the country. Hardly anyone drives down it. Too remote, too far away from cell towers, too far away from normal. But my life has been one long remote road.

I read to Sammy in the backseat on roads like this. I made Sam turn off his flashlight and sleep while driving down roads like this one. I called Sam at Stanford and hung up right after he answered while driving down roads like this. This car, thrumming, humming, along blacktop. Her engine lulling me to sleep when I was a kid, her seats wiping clean after I bled or Sam threw up after eating some really not good back roads diner food. This car took care of me. It took care of my family. And now it's just me and her." He said.

Lisa turned and looked out of the windshield, and was surprised to find that they were on the road that led home. "She still holds all of the stuff that can save a life. She has my hunting journal, Sam's, Dad's, and she alone is the one that holds all of that knowledge, that history. She keeps Sammy's duffel for me. She keeps it just in case I ever need to go through it, or ever get the courage to give it away. Me and her, we're it. We had to sacrifice everything, had to give up those we love, but we're both still here." He said and opened the garage door and pulled her back inside, cut the engine and got out. Lisa got out as well. "And now, she gets a tarp in a nice cushy garage, and I get a stable home with wonderful people. And neither one of us feels like we fit." He finished pulling the tarp over the car. "And both of us are warriors that may have survived the war, but we've lost so much, that we don't even know if we are all here."

Lisa came around to stand in front of him. She wrapped her arms around him. He kissed the top of her head and turned her to face his car. "Impala, this is Lisa. Lisa this is the Impala, the last of my family." She turned and looked at the car, she rested her hand on the hood, felt the heat emanating from the big engine, and she nodded, wiped tears from her eyes and said "It's a pleasure to meet you." Dean wrapped his hand around her waist.

"Come on. Let's go inside." She nodded, followed him to the door, up the three steps to the door, and Dean turned off the light and closed the door. The Impala's engine ticked.


	2. Chapter 2

AN: Okay, you guys won. I have this part and MAYBE two more to add to the story. Hope you like this as well as you did the first one.

* * *

"Hey, Dean?" Lisa questioned from the doorway to the bathroom. Dean looked at her reflection in the bathroom mirror, toothbrush in mid brush.

"Yeah?"

"I was wondering if we could take a ride today. I mean it is so beautiful, and with Ben at my parents for the weekend, I just thought, that, I don't know, we could get away for a little bit." She shrugged. Dean spit the toothpaste into the sink and turned on the water. He shrugged.

"Sure. That sound good. Give me a minute to get ready and we'll go." Lisa smiled brightly, jogged like school girl, something that Dean loved about her, and hugged him from behind. "I think it we should pack bags."

Dean smiled. "Pack one for me too." She giggled, kissed his neck and dashed out of the bathroom. There were perks to being the boyfriend of probably the most beautiful woman in the entire world.

SNSNSNSNSN

"You want to take the truck or your car?" he asked as he trotted down the stairs.

Lisa looked down and mumbled. "I was kinda hoping that we could take the Impala."

Dean licked his lips and looked hard at her for a moment. "You want to take the Impala?"

"Yeah. I….I…I just thought that…." She shrugged. "I wanted you to take me places today that you and your brother used to go. You know, I wanted to get to know you a little better. When we went up to my mom's you got the grand tour of my life. My mother drug you to my high school, I showed you the playground where I got my first kiss…and I really just wanted to see some of the places where you grew up."

"Sweetie, there isn't just one place that I grew up. I grew up all over the country. Ben is only going to be gone for a few days."

"We have three days. Can we hit the hot spots?" Dean thought for a moment, worrying at his bottom lip. Taking her on a ride in the Impala and telling her things was one thing, he was able to control his thoughts and his words, take away some of the pain while he was saying them, but to be there…to be there meant he might risk losing his tenuous happiness, his fleeting comfort, his ability to go on living through the days without Sam at his side…with Sam in hell trapped with Lucifer for eternity.

Lisa saw his hesitation and she stepped closer, ran her hand down the length of his arm and held his hand in hers. "Please. I want to know you and your baby better. You introduced us, but I didn't get a chance to get to know her. I want to hear her stories while you tell me yours." Dean looked down at her, looked into her soft earnest, honest eyes and he felt his walls crumble just a little bit further.

"Okay. Okay. Yeah. I'll get the keys."

SNSNSNSN

"Hey baby." Dean said softly as he pulled the tarp from the car. He said it with such tender loving that Lisa felt like she was intruding on a very private moment. She had to force herself to keep her eyes steady and not avert them when he ran a hand loving down the length of the car as he came back towards the front to open the passenger seat for Lisa. She smiled and stepped inside.

It didn't take long to get onto one of those back roads that she had never seen before; it seemed as if the Impala was drawn to those empty two lane blacktop roads that were lined with fall trees blowing in the wind.

They rolled the windows down, soaked in the sun and the breeze, each of them respectful of the other's thoughts. Lisa was listening to the car, listening to the engine, the wheels eat away at the road and tried to imagine a young Dean with a little brother at his side playing, talking, fighting, being kids in the back of the black beast. But truly all she could see was Dean, she couldn't put a face to the child that would be sitting next to him. She didn't even know how much younger Sam was than Dean, all she knew was that Sam Winchester was the most important person in Dean's life.

"How much younger is Sam?" Lisa finally asked.

"Four years younger. He was born the May after I turned four." Dean said simply.

"I only saw Sam for a second, when you guys brought Ben back, how tall was he?" she asked.

"6'4. All lean and muscle. That kid could and did beat the crap out of me a time or two."

"You two physically fought?" She asked confused. The only time he ever spoke of Sam was with love and a wistful sadness that made her heart ach.

"Yeah. Couple of times. If I caught him when he wasn't paying attention I could take him. But once he got the notion to wale on me, there was no stopping him. He was just a big, strong man."

"What did you fight about?"

"Demon blood mostly."

"Demon blood. You mentioned that when you introduced me to the car. What is that about?" Dean sighed and explained Ruby, the demon blood addiction, explained it all, and then he said something that he had never told another living soul, "He scared me when he was on the blood. Scared me, not that he would be dangerous, or even that he would physically die, though that did scare me towards the end, but what really scared me, was that I was losing my brother. I was losing the doe eyed, floppy haired, empathetic, intelligent man to the blood, that he was becoming someone hard and mean, and not at all sensitive to anyone or anything. His empathy made him the person people could love and relate to, and that was what I was scared the demons were trying to take away."

She nodded, but found nothing to say. What could she say? So instead she turned to the window and watched as they drove swiftly past the falling leaves. Lisa allowed her imagination to run away, allowed it to envision the tall strapping man who she pictured to look a lot like Dean, tried to imagine him sitting in this very seat, tried to imagine his voice, tried to imagine who he was, and then Dean gave a slow chuckle which startled her out of her thoughts.

"Sam used to spend hours just like you are. Starring out of the window, watching the trees fly by it. He told me that he did it because it was relaxing, allowed him to think. Just like he needed more time to think." Dean laughed. "He spent so much time thinking and worrying when he was young, and it never stopped, that was just a part of him. But damn. He could spend hours watching out of that window. And sometimes we'd be in New York when we'd hear of a hunt in California, and we would drive for days to get to the hunt, and Sam would spend most of it watching out of that window."

Lisa watched Dean as he told the story and was amazed at how open and free he seemed while sharing this with her. Then something totally unexpected happened. Dean laughed. "My brother, used to sleep there all of the time. His legs were way too long for the car, it was like one day he went from being a kid to being a gigantic man. So tall, so broad, and he never fit in that seat. He cracked his head getting inside more often than I can remember. Once in a while, if he was too busy reading something and not really paying attention, he would crack his head really good and have a knot on his forehead so big that it looked like someone had stuffed a ping pong ball under his skin." Dean chuckled. "I took great pleasure in mocking him and all he would do was give me the bitch face…"

"Bitch face?" She asked with a smile.

"You know the pursed lips, sigh, the narrowed eyes. And for Sam the bitch face usually accompanied my name said real shitty like." Dean gave his best imitation of Sam's voice and then he laughed. "God it was funny to watch him crack his head." Lisa laughed at the look on Dean's face. "I'd make a comment about how most cars aren't made for giants. Then he'd counter that if I didn't own a car that was made for midgets, and then we'd fight about the car, but it was playful fighting, not angry fighting."

Dean licked his lips and his face sobered. "But he never once suggested that we sell the car and get an SUV that would have fit his frame much better, and truthfully probably would have been more practical to have." He paused "But I think he thought of this car as his home, well, at least towards the end. After I brought him back from Stanford. I caught him running his fingers down the length of her when we decided that we would be better apart, a couple of weeks after we let Lucifer out of the box. So I guess he thought of this car as home too." Dean bit his lip and took a breath and seemed to reset himself.

"But, dude, that boy could look pretty damn silly when he slept. He'd fall one way or the other and he'd land on my arm, and being the super awesome brother I was I would let him lie there until my arm fell asleep. I have pictures of it on my phone."

"I've never seen any pictures on your phone."

"Not on my real life phone, but my hunting phone, it's in the glove box." She opened the glove box and looked inside. "You have like four phones in there."

"The silver one is Sam's, the black one is mine, the flip silver phone is my dad's and the other…well, that belonged to Castiel. But now since he's all big time again in heaven, he doesn't need it anymore." He said with a shake of his head. "Douch." He mumbled.

"Castiel?"

"He's an angel. He's the one who gave me the hand print on my arm." He said reaching over and touching his bicep. The handprint. Oh how she had wondered and wondered, but dared not to ask. He wouldn't even let her touch it when they made love, he would move her hand down, or off of his arm, he would never talk about it, never once.

"How?"

"When he brought me back from hell, he pulled me out and it left a mark on my physical body."

"Crap."

Dean nodded and pulled over on the side of the road. He cut the engine and looked at her. "Crap is being nice. Come on. I'll show you where I was resurrected."

"What?" She asked.

"You wanted to see something physical that is tied to my life. So, this is one of the most important. This is the one where I got my second chance to save the world and my brother. At least I did one." He mumbled and took her hand. He led her through the woods, and suddenly there was a clearing. All of the tress were lying flat on the ground.

"What happened here?" she breathed.

"When Cass pulled me from Hell, it took so much power that it did this to the area." He said and allowed her hand to slip from his as she walked towards the center of the clearing where the cross still stood. She knelt down in front of the cross and the hole in the earth.

"Did you?" she asked as he came up behind her.

"Climb my way out of my coffin? Yeah. I did. Sammy put that cross there for me, he buried me, he did all of it. All by himself. He wouldn't let Bobby do anything. Bobby told me that Sam was just all energy and his ears were closed to anything except his own mind. And when Sammy's mind gets going on something, it doesn't let go easily. The boy had to be just a mess." Lisa stood and rubbed her hands up and down her arms. Despite the warm air, she was cold.

"Were you scared?"

"Like you wouldn't believe. I remembered being shredded by hell hounds, and then I woke up in a box, buried. I was terrified. But I got out, and found my way to Sam." He watched her for a second and then gave a sad chuff. "Not exactly like when you showed me your high school and the spot on the swings where you made out for the first time." Dean turned and headed back out of the woods, Lisa right behind, no words being said, there was nothing to say, the clearing, the trees, the hole, the cross, the pain in Dean's eyes said it all. Introductions weren't supposed to hurt.


	3. Chapter 3

"Do you mind if I look at the pictures on your phone while you are in the shower?" Lisa asked when Dean got back into the car after renting them a room.

Dean nodded. The visit to his grave had reminded him too much of Sam's grave, and he felt like someone had a vice grip on his chest, his throat, his vocal chords, on every single part of his body making it difficult to speak, difficult to breathe, difficult to think. Never before had it been difficult to reserve a motel room, never had he had to think about how many beds, but tonight—tonight it had been near impossible to spit out that he only wanted a room with a single queen bed.

And asking for one single bed, in a no name motel on a back road in a backwoods state was something he hadn't done in over five years, and if truth be told he had hoped to never do it again. If it had been up to him to begin with they would have stayed somewhere classier. Some recognizable commercial chain that charged a reasonable fee and had a continental breakfast, something that didn't immerse him in his old life, a life that reminded him of his brother, a life that was strange to him now, a life that he missed, a life that he wished still included his floppy haired, hazel eyed, ginormous brother. But Lisa insisted that they stay somewhere that he and Sam would have stayed. She wanted to be introduced to his life in every way possible.

"Dean?" Lisa asked softly. He hadn't started the car, he was simply staring out of the windshield, his face slack and sad. "Dean?" she asked again, and he slowly turned and faced her, blinked slowly once, and licked his lips.

"Yeah?"

"Where's our room?" she asked gently.

"214." He responded.

"Where is it around here?" she gestured to the complex. He shook himself and realized what she was asking. He smiled, but the glassiness in his eyes didn't abate.

"Sorry." He turned the car on and drove to the room, parked, handed her the key, grabbed their bags, and followed her to the door. She opened it and her shock was audible.

"My good god." Lisa exclaimed. It was gaudy, it was loud, it was 70s themed, and on the Winchester weird motel room meter it only rated about a five. "This is hideous." She said with an amazed giggle.

"This one actually isn't as bad as some." He said slowly. "We stayed in one that looked like a dungeon . That one was bad."

"Dungeon?"

"Don't ask. We were tired, we were in pain, Sam was bleeding, and we needed to just be somewhere where I could get him on a bed and assess the damage, we didn't even notice the décor until two days later when we both were on the mend and had sleep." Dean moved from her side, dropped their bags next to the door and took off his jacket and put it on the chair in front of the desk.

"You stayed in places like this your whole life?"

He shrugged. "Not all of the motels were as nice as this one. Some you could hear the roaches' legs clicking against the floor when you turned off the light, some you shared the bed with the roaches. So, I guess, this one could be considered one of the nice ones."

"Your dad….he let you guys stay in places like this?"

"Let? 'Let' wasn't in the equation. Sometimes it was all we could afford, sometimes it was a matter of discretion, places like this don't ask questions, they don't ask why a grown man is on the run with two children in tow, they don't ask where the credit card came from, they don't check ID, they just accept whatever payment that is handed and turn the other way." Dean licked his lips and looked at the room again. "Once, Sam and I stayed in one of these places that was abandoned. The water still ran, but the toilet didn't work, and it was winter, and there wasn't heat. We made do with a fire and a makeshift outhouse." He sighed. "But when you are fugitives, when you are the prey of things you don't know what, and you just need to be under the radar, you do things that just aren't normal. You stay places that most people look at as disgusting, because you don't' have a choice."

Lisa looked at Dean with new eyes. He was tall, strong, handsome, and smart, but he was also a survivor. Not just a survivor of the apocalypse, something that he had shared very little about with her, but he was a survivor of his childhood, he was a survivor of loneliness, survivor of fear, survivor of a life that killed most.

"You mind if I get a shower first?" he asked disrupting her thoughts.

"No. Go ahead." She touched his shoulder, he picked up her hand and kissed it and grabbed his bag and took off for the bathroom. The door clicked softly behind him. She sat down on the bed, bounced a couple of times to assess it's softness, and one satisfied she pulled her legs in and sat cross-legged on the bed and pulled the phones from the Impala's glove box out of her hoodie pocket and began the examination.

She discarded the first silver phone because it didn't have photo taking feature, and then she looked at the other two phones. One black, one silver. Which one was the one Dean said was his and which one had he said was Sam's? She sighed and put the black one aside and turned on the silver phone. It took a moment but she found the photos. She started at the beginning and found pictures of a tall girl, blonde ringlets hanging past her shoulders. There were several pictures of her, and then she disappeared, and there were a couple of Dean, one under the Impala, one of him giving the phone the finger. She laughed at that one, and then the next one made her stop abruptly. It was Dean, chest open and gaping, blood pouring from his body. She dropped the phone and her hands covered her mouth, trying to keep the scream on the inside.

She squeezed her eyes shut, but the image seemed seared on the inside of her eyelids. All she could see was Dean's lifeless face, Dean's blood on the outside, Dean's intestines on the outside. Dean's dead eyes. Dean Dead. Tears were rolling down her face, she couldn't pull her hands from her mouth. She couldn't move. The picture was horrific, it was terrifying, it was devastating.

A hand touched her shoulder and she startled. "Lis…it's me." Dean said softly. She felt his weight on the bed beside her and she leaned over and buried her face into his shirt. Her hands left her mouth long enough to cling to his tee shirt. His strong arms wrapped themselves around her and he rocked her and made soothing noises, trying to abate her tears.

"How…how….?" She sobbed into his shirt.

"Sam took that picture. I found it on his phone not too long ago actually. I started a big fight. I couldn't believe that he would keep something so grotesque, something so horrible. He just let me scream and holler at him. He didn't move. He just endured my ranting and raving. Then when I screamed myself out, and demanded that he give me a response, when I finally allowed him to give a response, he said, 'It reminds me of what I can never allow to happen again. It reminded me while you were gone, why I was willing to follow Ruby, why I was practicing with her, why I was drinking her blood, why breaking your trust was worth it, why the addiction, why the withdraw, why all of the bad crap was worth it. When I forget I just look at that picture, and I don't doubt for a second why I did any of it.'" Lisa looked up at Dean's face, tears streaking her mascara down her lovely face, swollen brown eyes, and puffy cheeks never looked so beautiful.

Dean pushed hair from her face. "I never thought it was worth it. If I hadn't sold my soul, the apocalypse wouldn't have happened, and Sam would have been in heaven happy and at peace. But I was selfish and I couldn't stand to be in a world without him. But," he shrugged. "That's where I am now. Now not only am I in a world where my brother is dead, but his soul is damned to hell. He is stuck in a cage with Lucifer for eternity. And it is all because I was weak."

Lisa's eyes softened. She reached up and touched his rough cheek. "Dean…."

"There is nothing you can say to make it better." And she knew he was right. So, she did the only thing that she knew to do, she covered his mouth with hers and kissed him with all of her might, her love, and her sadness. His arms around her tightened in a hug.

"I miss him." He whispered.

"I wish I had known him." She said. She wished for the one introduction that this weekend would not afford-the introduction of Sam Winchester: genius, brother, friend, son, and hero.


End file.
